Fallen Angels
by craftydevil
Summary: What if the Phantom had acted with his brain and not his heart when Raoul came for Christine after Hannibal? One-shot. Full mask phantom.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This little one-shot came to me after watching some delicious POTO. If only the poor phantom had thought about what he was doing...how he was changing his and Christine's relationship by appearing to her...**

**Let me set the stage for you. This is all from Erik's perspective, the night of Hannibal and Christine performs, Raoul sees her and then...**

**~0~0~0~**

**Erik**  
**  
**

Christine was brilliant in her first stage performance. That temperamental, screeching cow, La Carlotta, had been seamlessly replaced with a chorus dancer. Hopefully the embarrassment would keep La Vache away for longer than usual.

No one was aware of the star they had hidden among the twirling tutus. Christine had been taking voice lessons from none other than the Angel of Music and I'd been planning for some time to replace that horrid excuse for a diva with my one and only pupil. Carlotta's latest fit provided the perfect opportunity.

The house was still applauding ten minutes after the finale. Such praise had never been shown in all the years I had dwelled here. I fairly glowed with accomplishment and pride. They were praising my student and through her, me. She was sheer perfection in every aspect because of _my_meticulous training.

I hurried to the mirror, eager for our appointed meeting time. The lessons had been going on for some time now and what had started as a way to comfort a mourning child had slowly begun to comfort me as well. Christine was a dear, sweet girl and though I tried to keep things professional, I found myself conversing with her more and more. Strict musical guidance had softened into easy visiting times. Conversations of her dreams and fears had begun to fill my empty heart and true companionship had grown between us.

It was foolish of me to allow myself to grow so fond of her but it was impossible to stop the spread of emotion. She was a glowing, innocent creature who gazed with joy and wonder around her room whenever I spoke to her in my oppressive Angel's voice. How could I not engage her when she herself was so engaging?

Tonight, Christine's Angel would have a few critiques but mostly praise for her. I didn't often indulge in giving her praise as it would lead to slovenly training habits, but tonight I would make an exception. She was an elemental force of nature on that stage as her voice reverberated through the grand halls of _my_opera. Everyone had been stunned by the unknown talent. She was my secret star. She glowed for me.

Meg was in Christine's room with her and they chatted excitedly, hugging, twirling and laughing, but I didn't really pay attention to their conversation. Christine was radiant. Her cheeks were flushed with color and her eyes shone with happiness. I was so taken with her that I imagined I could whisk aside the mirror, take her in my arms, and congratulate her as everyone else had that night.

But I was not like everyone else. I sighed and my heart squeezed as I gazed at my solitary, innocent girl while she smiled gaily at Meg. I hoped her debut would not change her too much. She was my only companion and I shuddered to think that one day she may depart the opera house and leave me alone again.

Could I not keep her like this forever?

Foolish thoughts and foolish begging...

Meg finally left and Christine changed from her costume behind the dressing screen while I looked politely away. When I heard her pick up her hairbrush I turned back, eager to watch her comb the unruly, luxurious mane. How I longed to touch her curly locks, to inhale the feminine scent that surely rose from them, but I was confined to my proper place. Hidden. Deformed. A monster.

A knock sounded on her door and we both jumped at the sound. Christine stared at the door for a few seconds before heaving a small sigh and stood to open it cautiously. A young, handsome man burst into the room and enveloped her in his arms.

White hot, angry jealousy tore through me. She was mine! What was that fresh faced, flower bearing fop doing in my place? He barely looked old enough to shave, let alone call on my Christine!

And she was smiling at him! Laughing!

I was practically pressed to the glass, grinding my teeth in rage when I noticed she was politely declining his invitation to dinner. She pulled away to a proper distance and I reminded myself to breathe.

Once I had taken a few calming breaths I realized that I did not have any right to get so upset. Christine only knew me as a voice, as an Angel. I'd implemented a rule that she not encourage any courtiers simply because I wanted her at every lesson if I was taking the time to climb to her mirror. Now however, I was beginning to wonder if that was my only reason. I had always thought of her as mine, and mine alone, but this boy obviously knew her. He probably had designs on courting her too! Why else would he bring her that ridiculously large bouquet of garish flowers?

I decided right then that any outside influence on my sweet girl was a direct threat to our continuing relationship. A flesh and blood man could easily come and sweep her off her feet with romantic words and prettier flowers. Even this preening boy right here could steal her away from me. I had to be careful in how I handled Christine after this boy's visit. I would have to choose my words before I spoke to Christine. I did not want to become angry with her for something that was obviously this scrawny excuse for a young man's fault.

I stood away from the mirror and glared at the boy, sending angry mental thoughts his way. Leave now!

There was no way that my innocent angel had invited this pansy to come to her room. I sneered at his elaborate purple and green velvet vest but my eyes were drawn back to Christine.

She was smiling, but I noticed it was not the bright, ecstatic smile that my voice brought to her face. Hope fluttered in my chest.

Could she care for me, as only a voice, more than she cared for this handsome, young, rich boy...who prattled incessantly?

Leave now, Boy!

Ah, finally he made to depart, but she allowed him to kiss her cheek and my anger flared inside me once more. After waiting just long enough to ensure he would be out of ear shot, I raged at her in my booming Angel's voice for breaking my rules. She was mine and no one else's! No mortal man was allowed to touch what was mine! Next time she would slam the door in his face to appease me.

She collapsed to the floor and begged my forgiveness. "Oh Angel, he means nothing to me. There is only room for you in my heart. He is just an old friend. Please, forgive me. Please, I will send him away if he comes again, I swear it. He is nothing! You are everything. Please. You are everything to me!"

I was stunned silent by her passionate plea. I was everything to her? I suddenly had an epiphany of gargantuan proportions. Christine loved me.

As an Angel of course, but still, love is love, is it not? And this burning jealousy at the thought of some other man stealing her from me surely meant I loved her too. There was no way I could compete fairly with any man, boy or fop who set his sights on Christine. However, I was an Angel and that meant I had the higher ground...

"Angel, please!" she sobbed, "Angel..." her delicate back racked with the strength of her grief. She was devastated at the thought that I would leave her and my chest ached in an unfamiliar way.

How could I ever leave her? She was all that was important in my life.

It was time to take our relationship to the next level. I would never give her up and there was only one way I could snare my little innocent. I was an intelligent man. I could handle this calmly and with the proper grace to turn things to my favor.

I let myself fall against the mirror loudly enough so she could hear and then fell to the floor of the tunnel cursing quietly, but not too offensively. I was supposed to by an Angel after all...well a former Angel...

"Christine?" I spoke in my normal voice with no booming echo as I patted the mirror. "Christine?"

Her tear filled eyes rose to the full length mirror, "Angel?" She stood slowly and came to the mirror, lifting one hand to touch the surface.

"Oh, Christine..."

"Your voice...it sounds so different and...it's coming from my mirror?"

"I know..." I paused for effect. "I think I may have done something...rash..."

"It sounds like you are right there..." her palm pressed to the mirror with wonder on her face and I placed my hand over hers enjoying the precious look. Such innocence, wonder, joy and what certainly looked like love, mingled in her eyes.

"I am right here, Christine," my voice was soft and encouraging.

"How?" she took her hand back, her eyes growing wide.

"I gave up my wings for you, Christine."

Her eyes widened even more and she covered her mouth with both hands as tears filled her eyes once again. Never have I seen someone look so happy and sad all at the same time.

"Angel..." it was muffled and I laughed gently.

"I am no longer an Angel, Christine. I am only a man." Joy flickered on her face but confusion returned to reign.

"But how can you speak from within my mirror?"

"I am behind it. There appears to be a tunnel of some sort, but I can see you. Oh, with true human eyes I can finally see you, Christine."

I was an evil man, was I not? But apparently, all was fair when dealing in love or war. And this was both!

"Why can I not see you?" Her exquisite voice whined the slightest degree and the instructor in me wanted to reprimand her. I swallowed that instinct down and looked around trying to imagine what it would feel like to be dropped into this situation.

"I do not know. What appears to be a window for me must be the other side of your mirror. The reflective glass is keeping you from seeing me and...that may be for the best. I fear...I can not allow you to see me..." I trailed off as she appeared to look quite upset.

"What? Why ever not? Why would you give up your wings...for me...and not..." she did not know how to explain and I had a few more devious ideas up my sleeve.

"I should have known," I moaned bitterly.

"Known what? Please, Angel!" She pressed her hands to the glass.

"I am not an Angel anymore!" I snapped, angry that she hadn't grasped that important part yet, but then I cringed at my angry words. I suppose a small amount of anger was acceptable. She had heard my anger before and should realize that becoming a man would not have changed my overall personality. A fallen angel should be allowed some anger towards God and I certainly had that in droves.

"Then what should I call you?" She was concentrating on the conversation, which is more than I could say for myself.

Come now, Erik. Stay focused.

"I don't know," I said softly. "You could give me a name," I offered.

"Don't...don't you have a name?"

"I was once called Erik, but that was a long time ago. I have been an Angel for...many years."

"Erik?" she smiled, "I like that name."

Oh, she was sweeter than honey and so close to being mine forever...

For what girl would ever leave a man who had once been her Angel?

"So..." she tapped the glass with her fingertips, "How do you get from where you are to here?"

"I do not know, but I already told you, my lo...Christine. You do not wish to truly see me."

"Of course I do Ang...Erik!" she looked slightly panicked but so radiantly gleeful. "I've waited for so long to see you, to touch you. I've prayed every night for this and finally you are here! I feel...I feel like I am so close to you and yet infinitely far away. Please..." Her hand trailed down the mirror.

"I am not sure how to reach you."

Her eyes searched the perimeter of the mirror. "Can we just break it?"

"You do not know what you are asking, Christine. He took payment for my request."

"Who?" Her face scrunched in the most adorable manner. "The Lord? What do you mean?"

"He was angry that I would leave his service for a human. I was one of God's own angels, his one and only Angel of Music and I...I'm such a fool. This can never be..." I choked up a little.

"What? Please, Erik, Angel, this is driving me mad. You are right there! I'm breaking this glass." I stepped away from the mirror as she toppled the candles from the candlestick holder and hefted it to feel the weight.

"Such drastic measures are unnecessary, my dear," I hastily reassured her. "I have found a lever of sorts. I believe it opens this passageway, but are you certain you wish to see me?"

"Press it!" She eagerly put down the heavy object and turned her shining eyes to the glass. She most certainly loved me.

"Not just yet, my sweet. As I said...a price was taken for my desire to be with you. It's as if he did not want you to love me."

"What? What did the Lord take from you?"

"He took my face." Christine went still on the other side of the glass.

"What?" She looked unsure and slightly frightened.

"He has made me...horribly ugly. I can feel it...and you...you will hate me."

"No Angel!" her eyes widened dramatically, "I could never hate you!" She pressed her hands and cheek to the glass as if trying to hug me through the thick pane. "Please...please, Erik...my Angel...please, please, please," she begged for me.

"I am disfigured. It is truly terrible and you Christine, you are so very beautiful." I was realizing that my acting skills were quite good. I momentarily thought about acting on stage with Christine. My character could wear a mask and she and I could sing an opera of my creation about our passion and love for each other.

Focus, Erik! Do not get ahead of yourself. I concentrated on Christine's muffled words.

"Angel, I loved you as only a voice. I would love you with any face you chose to have."

"I would never have chosen this. I don't even want you to look at me, as much as I yearned to have you look...Oh, Christine...it was all for naught..."

"Have faith in me, Erik," she stroked the glass. "Have faith in my heart," she whispered and I decided it was time for the moment of truth. I stripped off my mask and wig and tossed them aside. This would work or she would faint, and even then she may still become accustomed to my hideous face.

I pressed the lever and the mirror slid silently away. My eyes stayed down as I waited for her to move or scream. She stepped forward timidly into the dark tunnel.

"You truly are real," she whispered and reached to touch me. The mirror closed behind her and she pulled back as she found herself trapped in the dark with a strange man. "Angel?"

I sighed softly, my shoulders sagging to hide some of my intimidating height. "Please Christine, do not call me that anymore. I can never be your Angel again." I half turned away, but she came to me and took my hand. We both looked down at our hands, mine was gloved but her touch was warm and I thought I should have maybe taken off the gloves as well.

"You're wearing gloves?" She traced the back of my hand with one slender finger and my mouth opened at the rush her touch sent through me.

I swallowed with difficulty, "I suppose it is a good thing the Lord deemed to dress me at all."

Her fingers gently felt the fabric of my jacket and I tried to keep talking, "It appears I am fully dressed for the opera." My head was swimming with the sensation of her touch. She was so gentle and so warm, I tried not to lean towards her but I could feel myself doing it anyway. I was tired of being so cold...

"Your jacket is all dirty," she began brushing the sleeve and worked her way around to my back. "What do you usually wear?"

I couldn't think of an appropriate response. "Nothing," I managed to get out and then internally cursed myself as she said 'oh' very quietly and her hands hesitated on their path of cleanliness. She continued brushing the dirt from my jacket in precise, gentle, but crisp sweeps, working her way around me. Her hands slowed at my chest and they spread out as if to feel all they could. My heart was thumping rather hard and I'm sure she could feel it pounding down the center of my being. She still hadn't looked in my eyes and I waited with trepidation for that final bridge to be crossed. Instead her eyes closed and Christine leaned towards me, letting first her forehead and then her cheek rest on my chest. Her arms wrapped around me and she hugged me tight, sighing in contentment. Her warm, soft body felt utterly divine next to mine.

I swallowed and gently put my arms around her as I'd wished I could from the first moment I heard her cry.

"Christine..." I felt breathless and she sighed again.

"You gave up your wings for me."

"I did."

"Why?" Her voice was tiny.

"Is it not obvious? I love you." Our words echoed in the dark tunnel.

"I love you too," she breathed.

"But my face..." I whispered as I drunkenly inhaled the floral scent of her hair.

"Nothing would make me turn from you, my Angel," her hands fisted in the fabric of my jacket. "You will be mine forever."

Her suggestion sounded marvelous to me but I thought she should look at this abomination of a face the Lord gave me before making such a pledge.

"Look at me, Christine," I said softly, pulling away so she could run or faint as she saw fit. Her hands dropped away from me and her curly hair swung forward as her head bowed. "It is terrible, I can not lie to you, but maybe...if your love is strong enough..."

"It is!" She stomped her foot defiantly.

"Then look!" My voice sounded a lot like the Angel voice as it boomed around us and her face suddenly lifted to take in my countenance. I think I looked a little frightened as her eyes swept over my face, the parchment-like, mottled skin, the sunken eyes, my missing nose...but her eyes boldly met mine with tears glimmering within.

"You are beautiful to behold" Tears trailed down her face as I covered my own.

"Surely you jest." Her hands were quick to pull mine from my face and our fingers curled into each others like they were familiar friends.

"It is not a jest," her voice was sure. "I told you I loved you as only a voice for so long. To see you..." her hand trailed over my cheek lovingly. "To see you before me is my most fervent wish come true. For you to hold me..."

"I wish to hold you," I whispered, weak for her in a way that I couldn't explain. Now that I'd held her once, I wanted to hold her, cradle her and take in her scent forever and ever and never stop.

Was our love so strong that my face meant nothing?

Her eyes were boring into mine with an intensity that I'd never seen in her before. My skin tingled with her nearness and I tilted her face up to mine.

"I've never kissed anyone before," I warned her as our lips inched closer.

"Neither have I." Her hands crept to my lapels and I cupped her face in both hands like she was a delicate chalice of water. I was parched from living a life with no love, no acceptance, not even any physical contact. Yet here, this radiant creature lifted her lips to mine so I could taste them. I tried to remind myself to not drink too deeply.  
"Christine..." our eyes were still locked, as if either one of us looking away would dispel this fantastic heavenly miracle. "I've waited so long to touch you."

"Angel..." Her eyes fluttered shut as my mouth covered hers. Perfection rang through me. Perfection, love, lust, wonder, joy, satisfaction and a tiny amount of guilt that quickly vanished as Christine swept her hands over my meager amount of hair to pull me closer. We kissed and my hands wandered down through her hair and over her back. Her lips were eager and warm and soft and sweet and her hands pressed our faces together tightly so that stopping was not an option.

Our first kiss...

She pulled back abruptly and her wide eyes searched my deformed face as we both panted lightly.

"What...what happens now?" she whispered and the part of me that had no right claiming to be an Angel, fallen or otherwise, wanted to say something very naughty but I got down on one knee and took her hand.

"Will you marry me, Christine?"

Her brilliant smile was all the answer I needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note; I know I said one shot but Wandering-Recluse got me thinking of Christine's side. So here is Fallen Angels from Christine's POV.

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**Christine**  
**  
**

I was so nervous when the lights blinded me on stage. I could barely make out the sea of people but I knew they were there. I closed my eyes and thought of my Angel and the songs spilled effortlessly from my throat. The applause for me at the end was difficult to endure. It was as if a wave of approval was attempting to knock me down and smother me. The entire audience appeared to love me and I almost broke down into sobs at the deafening roar of hundreds of people clapping for me. It felt good to have such acceptance but there was only one being I wanted approval from.

I raced to my room to wait for my Angel. Though he came every night to tutor me, I was hoping we could skip our lesson tonight and only talk. Tonight I had finally performed and experienced what he often spoke of. The glory, the accomplishment, the glow of pride as hundreds of people stood to their feet to honor me. I was a singer and no one could ever take that from me. I had worth. I was special.

I had to be special because I'd been gifted with the Angel of Music.

Meg was almost as excited as I was with my performance. True friends will always be happy for your accomplishments and I knew Meg was mine. She squealed just as loudly as I did and we hugged joyously. She tried to get me to come join the party but I evaded her. I wanted to wait for my Angel and he had strict rules about inviting men to pursue me. It was just easier not to speak to any men. None of them held any interest for me anyway. As silly as it was, I had fallen in love with the masculine purr of my Angel's voice. So many nights he'd sung me to sleep or told me fairytales and stories in that marvelous voice. God surely knew of my impossible feelings and I prayed one day, if I obeyed my Angel and was a good, pious girl, I would be gifted a visit from above.

It wasn't my Papa that I desperately wished and prayed for anymore. It was my Angel. His voice could sometimes hold me like a pair of arms and I would close my eyes and imagine that it was truly his arms that held me. If angels had arms...

I sighed as darker thoughts filled my mind. What if my Angel had to leave me soon? He had been with me now for years and I worried that because of my success this evening, God would take him away and send him to another student who needed him more than I.

I mechanically brushed out my hair, trying not to think of such things. Angel would warn me if that were to happen. And he would come to visit me if we were ever separated. He must feel something for me and God must know that no one could need my Angel more than I.

Knocking disturbed my thoughts and I looked at the door in annoyance. My Angel would never reveal himself if I had a visitor and I reluctantly answered the door, hoping to make it a quick conversation. My Angel would be here any minute.

"Christine!" Raoul De Chagny strode through the door with an armful of flowers and embraced me quickly. "You were stupendous! Incredible! I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming!"

I laughed at his exuberance, "Raoul! It's been years!"

"I know, I know! We haven't seen each other in ages. Come to dinner with me so we may catch up!" I realized I was still in his arms and carefully began to pull back, my smile fading. This was ardently against my Angel's rules.

"I must decline, Raoul. It is a true joy to see you but I am devoted to my career and can not waste time with such frivolities."

"Frivolities?" he looked slightly confused. "There was a time when all that interested you was frivolities."

I smiled demurely, knowing he was right.

"Come Christine, let us away from here so we may talk. I have missed you all these years. Did you miss me? Did you think of me at all?" His eyes bored into mine, full of hope, and I thought about lying to make him feel better, but he continued on. "I've been busy with my business and the navy and traveling, on my word, traveling, Christine! Do you remember how we used to dream of places to go? I've been to those places. I've seen the people there!"

He continued to speak but my mind was wandering to my Angel. Would he be proud of me tonight? Would he speak in that shivering whisper or maybe the impressive boom? Would his voice hold me tonight?

"Please, Christine, come to dinner?" Raoul held out his hand to me and I moved to open the door.

"I can not, Raoul, perhaps another time." Though I knew I never would.

"Well, another time then. It was so good to see you, dear Christine." Before I could form a goodbye, he had leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheek. I stiffened, worried that my Angel was watching the exchange but when no lightning struck Raoul to the ground, I relaxed and said my farewell.

I closed the door thinking that I had grown up very much in the last few years under my Angel's guidance. There was a time when Raoul's kiss would have made me feel gloriously blessed but now I'd been blessed with an Angel. I smiled a little, wondering when he would come and suddenly his voice was all around me, pushing me to the ground to cower before him.

He was mad.

"How dare you disobey me! That insolent boy touched what is mine! You belong to _me!_No living man is permitted to touch what is mine! I demand you reject him soundly if he dares to call on you again. He has sullied you with his unclean touch. His foul lips have tainted your purity."

I trembled under the awesome power of his anger as he continued to rage at me. "Perhaps I have been misguided and fooled into believing your vows to me. Should I disregard all you've said? Should I cast you away from my circle of acceptance? You easily shun my orders, what should I expect next? Perhaps I shall leave you to your sinful existence!"

His threat had me begging in an instant. "Oh Angel, he means nothing to me." Fear was edging around me as I let the panicked words spill from my mouth. I had never heard my Angel so enraged and I knew it was completely my fault. He had to know Raoul meant nothing, that my heart was entirely his. I tried to explain, stuttering over my words, but the pressing silence closed in around me.

Tears fell down my cheeks and I curled into a little ball on the floor of my room. He's left me. I've angered him for the last time. He's spoken to me for the last time...

"Angel, please!" I sobbed but there was no answer from the air. My wretchedness was complete. Only moments ago I was so happy thinking of my Angel of Music and now he has left me. I was alone.

Completely alone...

Suddenly I heard a loud thud and then some muffled talking coming from somewhere in my room. I looked about, but my vision was blurred by tears.

"Christine?" My Angel's voice came quite normally from my left. "Christine?"

Ecstatic joy filled me that he hadn't left me but his voice was very odd sounding as I wiped my eyes and scanned my room. His voice was somehow weak and seemed to come from the direction of my full length mirror.

"Angel?" I was confused and rose to touch the glass in wonder.

"Oh Christine..." his voice came from where my hand was touching and my eyes opened wide in awe.

"Your voice...it sounds so different and...it's coming from my mirror?" I thought I should point out. His voice had never come from an object as it always came as if from the air around me.

"I know..." he answered me softly. "I think I may have done something...rash..."

"It sounds like you are right there..." I pressed my palm to the mirror enthralled with how near he sounded. His voice had always previously sounded so omnipotent and right now it sounded so achingly close.

"I am right here, Christine."

"How?" confusion filled me. Was he within my mirror?

"I gave up my wings for you, Christine."

I covered my mouth with my hands so I would not make any embarrassing sounds and tears filled my eyes. I must have misheard him. This could not truly be happening. I wondered if I was dreaming my most fervent dream. Was I still curled on the floor crying in the real world?

"Angel..." I didn't know how to ask him correctly and he laughed gently. It was the most beautiful laugh I'd ever heard, so soft and melodic and I wanted to hear him laugh again.

"I am no longer an Angel, Christine. I am only a man."

I swear my heart stopped beating. Every prayer I'd ever spoken to have my Angel be real was coming back to me and I grasped onto the only solid piece of evidence of his continuing heavenly nature.

"But how can you speak from within my mirror?"

"I am behind it..." he quickly and easily explained the only shred of reality I had left, pulling it from beneath me like a rug and I was left floating in a world where strange and glorious miracles happened. I gazed at my awed expression and imagined my Angel was looking at me right now through this mirror. I asked him why I could not see him and heard the whine in my voice. I swallowed hard, not wanting to disappoint him again as he explained how this window mirror worked. I had to pay close attention to his words because I was beginning to feel a burning desperation in my chest. I ached to see him. He was real? He was REAL!

"...that may be for the best. I fear...I can not allow you to see me."

"What?" my mouth dropped open. My dreams come true and he says such a thing? I tried to articulate my questions but stopped myself from saying anything embarrassing. He said he gave up his wings but that doesn't mean he loves me. Angels do not fall in love with their silly, childish pupils.

"I should have known..." he moaned bitterly and I had never before heard such emotion in his voice. It made my own feelings for him rush to the surface and I pressed my hands to the glass, beyond thoughts, beyond words.

"Known what? Please, Angel!"

"I am not an Angel anymore!" he snapped at me and I tried to gain control of myself. I had to be more mature than this and not allow myself to spiral into juvenile begging for him to reveal himself. I asked what I should call him if not Angel and ignored the consuming pull to put my arms around him. Could I honestly put my arms around him? Had God truly granted my prayer?

My Angel offered me the honor of naming him but I could not think straight and the enormity of bestowing a name upon a divine being was daunting. A million possibilities flew through my head but none seemed right for an angel.

"Don't...don't you have a name?" I finally asked.

"I was once called Erik, but that was a long time ago. I have been an Angel for...many years."

"Erik?" I smiled, what a perfect name. It was strong and masculine and yet gentle sounding and it suited the powerful voice that he still had. "So..." I tapped the glass, "How do you get from where you are to here?" My voice practically squeaked with happiness at the thought of my Angel, right there, mere inches away, looking at me...

"I do not know, but I already told you, my lo...Christine. You do not wish to truly see me."

I couldn't help the incredulity on my face and in my voice. I've waited years for this miracle! Begging fell from my lips yet again and my hand trailed down the mirror as if trying to feel him on the other side. I tried to make him understand how very long I've waited for this moment.

"I am not sure how to reach you," he replied calmly and I searched the perimeter of the mirror, feeling impatient.

"Can we just break it?" I was beginning to tire of this stand still. How long would I be tortured with more waiting? My Angel though was still speaking in that calming purr.

"He took payment for my request." I tried to concentrate on the words floating from the other side of the glass which I was currently wanting to shatter into thousands of pieces. I managed to ask for clarification, though the majority of my mind was focused on one thing, seeing my beautiful Angel for the first time. His heavenly voice choked with emotion and that vulnerability that he had never before displayed to me made determination surge through me. He was upset and he needed me to comfort him. How many times had he comforted me over the years? I would be there for him now. There was no way for me to use my voice to hold him, so my arms would have to do.

"I'm breaking this glass," I hefted the candlestick holder from my desk to feel the weight of it. Certainly this object would break the glass so I could fall into my Angel's embrace and clutch him to my chest forever.

"Such drastic measures are unnecessary, my dear," he suddenly reassured me. "I have found a lever of sorts. I believe it opens this passageway, but are you certain you wish to see me."

"Press it!" I stared at my frantically eager reflection. I looked slightly wild and out of control, my breath coming in short pants and I again, hoped feverishly that I wasn't dreaming. If I woke from this impossibility...I would not think of that right now.

"Not just yet, my sweet." He was so angelically patient and I gritted my teeth as he kept talking. "As I said...a price was taken for my desire to be with you. It's as if he did not want you to love me."

I was really having to be polite and listen because the candlestick holder was within my reach. It glittered serenely, enticing me to wield the heavy metal and make all my dreams come true. "What? What did the Lord take from you?"

"He took my face."

Images of a man without any eyes, nose or mouth came to mind. How could he live without them? How would I kiss him?

"What?" I managed to say as I remembered he said he could see me, so he must have eyes and he was talking so hopefully he had a mouth.

"He has made me...horribly ugly. I can feel it...and you...you will hate me."

"No Angel!" I pressed forward at his words, "I could never hate you!" I vowed vehemently as I pressed my cheek to the glass and closed my eyes tight. I begged for him to end my misery and open this mirror. Open the passageway that would lead me to a realm unknown, a realm where angels fell from heaven...

"I am disfigured. It is truly terrible and you, Christine, you are so very beautiful." Tears pricked my eyes at his compliment. He'd never before told me he thought I was beautiful.

"Angel," I breathed, "I loved you as only a voice. I would love you with any face you chose to have." My heart knew my words were true but I only hoped I would be brave when I saw the face the Lord had given him. I had to be strong. I had to be brave. I'd been gifted a miracle! I couldn't shun this glorious blessing or turn from this impossible phenomenon. How terrible a person would I be to turn away from the angel, from the man, I had prayed for?

He tried to convince me that I did not want to see him. He tried to hide the sorrow he felt, but I could hear the misery like a veil over his exquisite voice. My heart was breaking into pieces as I stroked the mirror with trembling fingers.

"Have faith in me, Erik. Have faith in my heart." He didn't respond to me and I was holding my breath when suddenly the mirror slid away from under me. My eyes automatically fastened on the ground and I saw a pair of shiny, fancy shoes. I stepped forward into the dark tunnel as if in a dream, glancing only high enough to see the black dress suit that covered the man in front of me.

"You truly are real." I whispered and reached out only to lose my nerve when the mirror slid shut behind me. "Angel?" I was suddenly frightened that this was a hallucination brought on by my despair. Could I really be dreaming all this? Would I wake to find all my deepest desires dashed into the air? Why would the Lord ever give up his Angel of Music for a poor, love sick child.

My Angel sighed and the man's shoulders sagged forward.

"Please Christine, don't call me that anymore. I can never be your Angel again..." He started to turn away and I came forward quickly and took his hand before he disappeared.

His hand was both delicate and strong as it meshed with mine and I was surprised to feel cloth against my palm. "You're wearing gloves?" I traced the back of his hand with one finger thinking it odd that he was fully dressed. I always imagined him in swaths of pearl-like fabric with huge feathered wings and a halo of light around his head.

My Angel was speaking to me, sounding awful nervous, but I was too dazed to stop touching him. He was real. The man I was touching had my Angel's voice, it was slightly changed, probably due to the inability of a human's vocal chords to master the awesome power of an angel's resonance, but it was his voice. The voice that could hold me. I fingered the expensive fabric of his jacket wanting him to turn and take me in his arms, but instead he kept talking.

I noticed his sleeve was dirty and surmised that he'd been deposited ungraciously in this tunnel. Dropped like he no longer mattered. I yearned to let him know that even if he no longer mattered to God, he mattered to me.

"Your jacket is all dirty..." I gave as explanation for my wandering hands. I was brushing dirt off the luxurious, black fabric as I slowly moved around him but I was also feeling as much as I could of his tall, slim body. "What do you usually wear?" I thought I should try to make conversation and not just grope him for the next few minutes.

"Nothing," came his soft reply and I blushed to the roots of my hair as I imagined no clothing on my Angel. I finished a complete circle around him, feeling the very solid build of his frame.

He was, honest to God, real. My hands spread on his chest and I could feel the strong steady beat of his heart. I leaned towards him, like a string was pulling my head to his chest and my arms wrapped around his waist. I was holding my angel for the first time.

Euphoria filled me as his arms held me lightly to his body. His heart pounded against my cheek and mine was pounding in time with his.

"Christine..." he spoke my name in that magical purr of his and my heart was bursting with joy.

"You gave up your wings for me." I whispered, still awed by his sacrifice.

"I did."

"Why?" I had to ask.

"Is it not obvious? I love you." His words resonated through me.

"I love you too." I could barely believe the forbidden words that fell so easily from my lips for the first time.

"But my face..." he started.

"Nothing would make me turn from you, my Angel," I fisted my hands in the fabric of his jacket. I just got him! Nothing would ever keep me from him. "You will be mine forever," I vowed religiously.

"Look at me, Christine," he spoke achingly soft, pulling away and leaving me cold without his holy embrace. The tunnel was dark but light was spilling from my room even though the mirror had returned to its closed position. I was afraid to look up and so, stared at my feet with a pounding heart. "It is terrible," he warned seriously, "I can not lie to you but perhaps...if your love is strong enough..."

Defiance and strength surged through me. How could he question my love already? "It is!" My voice rang loudly around us.

"Then look!" his voice boomed, doubling my volume easily, and still my heart tripped nervously. My angel was standing before me and I was too afraid to look at him. It was ridiculous and childish but I knew nothing would be terrible enough to keep me from him. Most people closed their eyes when they kissed anyway...

I lifted my lashes and finally took in the face that God had bestowed upon my Angel. My eyes roamed over his countenance before meeting his stare. His deep-set, mismatched eyes glimmered and burned with the remnants of his holy powers and it took me a moment to realize he had no nose at all. Other than that he looked absolutely wonderful to me. The fact that he was truly standing here before me was more important then his missing hair and nose.

"You are beautiful to behold." I meant it with every fiber of my being as tears trailed down my face but anguish filled his face as he hid himself behind his gloved hands.

"Surely you jest..." His sad, sad voice tore pieces of my heart out and I grabbed his hands to pull them from his face. Our fingers meshed perfectly as I stared into his eyes.

"It is not a jest. I told you I loved you as only a voice for so long. To see you..." I touched his parchment-like skin and then ran my fingers down his cheek, unable to stop the desire to touch him, to feel him beneath my hand. "To see you before me is my most fervent wish come true," I whispered close to his mouth. "For you to hold me..."

"I wish to hold you..." he whispered weakly and our eyes locked. This man was my Angel. My Angel was this man...

His hands lifted my face even closer and his words breathed over my mouth, "I've never kissed anyone before." A thrill went through my body and I gave him back the gift he'd just given me.

"Neither have I." We were entirely pure of sin. Perhaps that was why God had blessed us both and ended our suffering. I felt my hands curling into his lapels and his long fingers cupped my face like the most delicate breakable vase.

"Christine..." we were drowning in each other's eyes, as if either one of us looking away would undo this fantastic heavenly miracle. "I've waited so long to touch you." The same could be said for me but his lips were so close...

"Angel..." my eyes fluttered shut as his mouth covered mine. Holy perfection rang through me. Perfection, love, wonder and joy. His mouth was incredibly soft, like the skin was newly made and I realized it was newly made. It was made for me.

I swept my hands over his scalp and pulled him closer. My heart was beating so hard that my ears were ringing with its rhythm. He ran his hands down through my hair and over my back and I wanted to weep from the feel of his touch. To have him holding me and kissing me, I was in turns awed and then delirious. His hands pressed to my back to hold me even closer and I knew that with him, every unholy act of intimacy that I'd ever heard about would be made holy by the miracle of his existence.

I pulled away startled that my thoughts had turned so sinful from just a small kiss, but as I looked into his eyes I knew that he'd felt it too.

"What...what happens now?" I whispered into the darkness and he got down on one knee and took my hand.

"Will you marry me, Christine?"

A smile pulled on my lips. Such a smile, I have never unleashed before. I thought my face would crack from the exaltation that rushed through me. All my dreams and prayers had come true. My divine encounter had produced a miracle of unparalleled proportions and now we would join ourselves together forever in Holy Matrimony.

I was the happiest woman alive and from the look on my Angel's face, he was the happiest man ever to be given life.


End file.
